Volume 1 : Apocalypse
by Anei
Summary: Post Brave New World. The cause and effects of Claire's decision to jump off the Ferris wheel. All the good. All the bad. And everything in between. SylarXClaire.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: **I have started stories before and thought; 'maybe I should complete the story before I post anything'. The idea was good, but I would always stop writing by the fourth Chapter. I figured that now, with this new idea for a story, I should publish my chapters as soon as I finish them. That being said, I hope that you and I will survive this long process.

I don't spend a whole lot of time writing, so I hope I'll stay encouraged to write at least a little everyday.

I don't think I can promise an update every week because life does get in the way, but I do hope I can stick to at least completing the story.

I am currently planning to have three volumes. The volumes should be a little dark and depressing, but the final volume will finish with some type of happy ever after.

Here is too a long journey together.

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**Volume 1**: Apocalypse

Chapter One: Humanity

_With every new decision_ arises_ a course of actions in favour of and against the motion. Sometimes, we do not realize that retaliation of such effects is somber and sinister in nature. In naivety, we expect that only goodness will come with good intentions. _

In mid fall she had doubted her choice. Maybe jumping off a Ferris wheel had flair of dramatics. It was spontaneous. She knew. Yet, standing atop looking down to this new world she would create-she _had_ to take the leap of faith for humanity. She had to believe in humanity.

When she hit the ground, her body mangled and broken, she knew that anything here on out would be her responsibility. She would not run away from life anymore. When she stood up and manipulated her body to its original form, she knew she was not the same girl that climbed the Ferris wheel moments ago. She knew that her father's disappointment in her was great, but it was time for her to make her own decisions. Not out of spite or rebellion, but for what she thought was right.

She couldn't remember what she said to the reporters, but she remembered the heavy silence that hung around them. At first, they didn't know how to react. Then, to break the silence, a loud gunshot rang through the air. Someone had shot her in the head.

When she opened her eyes, dread formed inside her. She knew, at very last, this world couldn't possibly be ready for Specials.

That had been a week ago. Day after day the news replayed the same events. Claire was known worldwide. Within hours, every detail about her life was revealed. The first bit about her life that was breaking news-apart from the fact she couldn't die-had been of the murder at homecoming by Sylar. From there, everything about her life was publicized; her mother, her brother, her father and even Mr. Muggles. Nothing was spared.

The only thing the press hadn't found out yet was that she was the biological daughter of Nathan Petrelli. They did however find out that she was adopted and she was not a true Bennet by blood.

Among all this information of her were also rumours and lies. There were a lot of men that came forwards confessing of their intimate relationship together and how she had threatened them not to say a word. They told the press she also had the power of persuasion and she could make you do things against your will. There were stories about her being part of the mafia and known as the collector. The stories only increased as the days came by.

She was more disturbed when she saw detailed articles of her daily habits from when she woke up to when she fell asleep.

She had always kept to herself. She had always remained quiet and undetected. It had only been a week and Claire didn't know if she could emotionally handle the manslaughter by the press for longer. She understood how celebrities felt being under such a scrutinizing microscope; how it felt to be judge for how she looked, how she talked and of her abnormality.

She realized that although her life before was not normal in the usual sense, it had been normal. At least being a normal girl, people didn't hate you so vocally or want to kill you for fun.

There had not been any more Specials that announce themselves to the world. She felt betrayed in a way. Yet, did not blame them. She was the guinea pig. They would see how the world would receive her.

After she had been shot, she remembered looking back to find Peter, but he had disappeared. Everyone had disappeared. Even her father had disappeared.

She stood there, alone with her burden, alone in her new world.

She hadn't heard from her father since that night. From the news, she knew that her mother and Lyle had been relocated somewhere and that her father was missing. They assumed he had been relocated as well.

She had nothing but this responsibility. She wondered most nights when she had stopped crying, if she would ever sleep soundly again.

Deep down, she knew she wouldn't. She had created this world where Specials couldn't co-exist with average people and it tore her apart every time she breathed.

She knew it was a matter of time before they would find everyone and she feared it would be far worse than just a 'bag and tag' her father had once been use to.

The world was not so brave after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** Here is the second chapter. I know it's a little slow moving but I want to put an emphasis on Claire. This is her Volume. I'll hope you will be patient enough to allow me the chance to make a good solid foundation for her. I usually like when things happen quickly but I feel like Claire is a more slow developing character. Claire always remains the same throughout most of the seasons but you do see slow changes about her personality and actions. Claire's life if so full of ups and downs that I want to keep that similar pattern.

I don't own Heroes but I do own a computer to write about Heroes.

* * *

Chapter Two: Sight

_From one side, a square simply has four sides, but when we look from another point of view__—__from another perspective__—__ we'll notice that what we once thought was one-dimensional is actually a cube. There are layers of complexity to everything in life. It's the discovery to find these complexities that will give us depth from our standpoint._

Claire opened her eyes. She was looking up at her dorm room ceiling. Her eyes were swollen and sore. She had managed to sleep that night but for how long? She didn't know.

It had been a week.

Just one week.

She took a deep breath. This was her responsibility. She trusted humanity and she would not lose hope for humanity. She would never die, so she needed to be strong for everyone. She took another deep breath and let her thoughts settle in her mind.

One week.

It had just been one week and the only thing Claire could think about was how things didn't turn out like she thought they would. She never thought people would retaliate like this.

So, Claire took another deep breath. It wasn't so easy being strong. She hated that she wasn't like Peter.

Peter.

Peter, he could distance himself from the problem. People could be angry with him and upset with him but he would put that aside. He would see the big picture. Even though he was _the _problem he could still work with everyone like he didn't know they said things about him. How could Peter do it?

She closed her eyes tightly again. She was lost. It felt like she needed to rediscover herself and she asked herself for the first time in a long time; who is Claire Bennet? Her first thought was; 'I'm a cheerleader'. She grimaced.

Who is Claire Bennet?

Who was she?

It was a simple question. It was only three words. Yet, she felt lost. She wanted to say that she was Claire Bennet, the Cheerleader that couldn't die. She was the 'indestructible' girl. However, she knew it held no essence. Being a cheerleader and the indestructible girl was _what_ she was not _who_ she was.

She felt a small lull form in the center of her head. Maybe she was looking at this the wrong way.

So, once again, she took a deep breath. She took a seat in her bed and pulled over a pen and paper. On the top she scrawled in curvy handwriting her own name. What were her good qualities? Underneath her name she wrote a few words. They came easier than she thought.

Kind.

Compassionate.

Considerate.

Loving.

Headstrong.

Stubborn. (She grinned at that one. It was both good and bad, she knew.)

Dedicated.

Intelligent.

She saw the good in everyone.

She forgave people who hurt her.

She believed in perfecting herself and helping others.

Good.

As she drew the tail end on the 'd' of good Claire stopped. So suddenly, it clicked inside of her. She was not just a list of word. She was so much more. She was _good_. Everybody had it in them to be good. They just needed a chance. They needed an opportunity.

This time, she didn't take a deep breath like she had been doing all morning. For the first time, she exhaled. She exhaled and let the world come off her shoulders. With a grin she asked her self; who is Claire? She had no exact word to explain who she was, but she felt it inside her. This light. This goodness.

Who was Claire? _She_ **was** Claire.

It was almost spiritual. She had good qualities about herself, but she was born different. It was like a light inside her ignited and burned her chest. Claire Bennet would be the change the world needed. She had the rest of her life to make it happen, after all.

Claire felt older now, mature— like she was an adult. The confidence she thought she had lost in herself grew once again. She would have probably said it was oozing out of her pores, if Gretchen had asked about her in that very moment. It was satisfying finally feeling like she could direct herself somewhere.

She had boldly shown the world what she could do and she had just frightened the world away. She still felt a tiny jab of pain by what the world had done in turn. She had somehow thought the world would rejoice with her-that they would easily accept Specials.

It's what she thought would have happen.

It made her reminiscence a time when she was younger. She smiled lightly. She had done something wrong and her dad sent her to her room. Small and angry, she cried and played situations in her head of what she would tell her father when she spoke to him. She imagined what he would tell her and what she would tell him in return. When she had finally talked to her father, her rehearsed speech had been pointless. He hadn't said what she expected of him.

It was like baking a new cake and expecting it to turn out beautiful and delicious but it looked different and tasted awful.

It was like expecting to win first place in a cheer-leading tournament but coming out fifth.

It was like thinking you made a good impression on someone you liked but didn't.

Although they were all things people experience, it always caught you off guard when it happened. In accepting this, Claire made a point of trying to understand these alternate outcomes when they would happen again. She had a different perspective on life now.

The one thing she believed deep down was that Specials could coexist together. Maybe it would not be tomorrow or the day after, but she would be there when they would co-exist. She would be there with mankind. Her ability perhaps made her indestructible, yet that wasn't what her powers were. She could shape the world. She could direct it in the right path. She felt selfish in a way. However, she knew that nobody else could complete this job to the end_—_or live long enough to make it happen.

She remembered vaguely a quote she once heard that; 'what you saw in yourself, you also saw in the world'.

She was innocent Claire.

So was this world.

With new found determination and grit Claire came out of bed. Yes, she told herself, she was different once again. She walked over to her desk, sat down and pulled out a map.

Her father would never leave her and neither would Peter. She replayed the day of the carnival in her mind...

Hiro.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N :  
**Well, here is chapter three that will hopefully take longer than just five minutes to read like the previous stories. I'm trying to keep the story line general and basic so that I can add more to it when I become inspired from reviews (I was excited at all the reviews I got too! Thanks everyone!) or on post you can find on the "Sylaire Committe dot tumblr dot com" page. Look it up! If you're looking for similar stories with Claire and Sylar don't be shy to check up Julyisfree, Purple Lex, Cerberus Angel and Heroesfan!

So, please point out if you see any grammar mistakes or something that sounds off. I usually like revising a story a couple of days after I finished writing it, but I'm leaving on a road trip this weekend and didn't want to make you wait until Monday. If anybody is curious about my road trip, I'm actually going to see a relative of mine with my brother that lives 11 hours (car ride) away. We'll be leaving tomorrow after I'm done work and hopefully getting there early Friday afternoon. The point of this trip you wonder? My brother and I have been training our dogs to do some dog sledding (a.k.a Mushing!) for a year and a half. Our little puppies are now big enough to pull a sleigh. That's what we're gonna go get. A freaking DOG SLED guys! I'm absolutely pumped for this winter. The last winter I had actually done some 'skijoring' all winter with the dogs on Cross-country skis. I bought two pairs of Snow Blades this evening (for a freaking good deal!) and I'm absolutely excited to use them! They'll definitely be better than the other skis I have. (Fun fact, I actually spent a few hours listening to Christmas music as I was writing this Chapter.)

Anyways, enjoy Chapter Three.

**Disclaimer **: I only own my keyboard and my mouse...and almost payed off the computer screen. That is all.

**Volume 1** : Apocalypse

**Chapter Three**: Components

* * *

_There are numerous types of matter in the world. Their consistency defines them as a whole. They contain different types of properties to differentiate them among others. Its self, alone in the universe has no meaning and no sense of purpose. It is when we add compounds and elements we will see its chemistry. We will see how it attracts and repels with the other substances in the cosmos. It is only when we see it as a whole-in a big picture-that we can comprehend the mechanics behind one being, one particle, one spec in a galaxy. _

* * *

Claire grinned down at her handy work. She prided herself in it. She could hear a small voice within her say that she was indeed her father's daughter.

Her map was now marked down and colour coded. In red she circled the major events that happened with Specials. Her eyes scanned the map quickly and noted down Coyote Falls, Kirby Plaza and places where the Carnival has been as well as its recent location in Central Park. Claire had also taken the time to mark down places she had been, from her birth home down to her residence in dorm. She did the same with what she knew of her father's history, Peter's and for Hiro (along with the year jotted down near certain locations).

With a second though, the map was a little intimidating.

Even with all these places marked down, how did you find someone who could move from one place to another while he could also move forwards and backwards through time. Finding someone who was invisible (with baby powder) would be easier.

Irritated she banged her fist on the table. Did she also need to profile everyone now too? She took out a few line sheets of papers and wrote down Hiro, Pete and her father's name. She looked at their names for a long time. The only thing she had written down for Hiro was 'Japanese geek'. Her father and Pete's pages remained blank. If this had been any other day but today, Claire was convinced she would have laughed about it. She wasn't quite cut out to be a profiler.

It felt like she was in advanced algebra again. The difference with advanced algebra was that she had the option to walk out and take another class, like going for a Bachelor in Philosophy.

She felt that it was a little ironic she was taking classes in Philosophy and when she could benefit from it, she had missed too many classes to really get anything completely solid out of it.

She folded up the map and put it in one of her bags. She then took the time to clear up any evidence.

Evidence. Like she was a criminal.

Claire cleaned everything thoroughly. It would have been a little more comforting to say she was paranoid and over reacting but she wasn't. Being in dorm for so long and being part of college pranks, she knew how easy it was to break in someone's room. Of course at that time she was…normal and she wasn't the most talked about girl in the world.

She was more worried that the media would find information of other Specials. Her Specials. They had already hunted down her classmates and people she would casually talk to until the University finally got the police involved in their students' privacy. That had at least eliminated a few people who were obsessed about her on University grounds.

Discreetly as she could, she parted her blinds slightly. She noticed the van that had been parked near the exit for a couple of days. She then scanned over the buildings rooftops.

Maybe the few hours she spent finding locations Specials was a dead end for now, but she figured her next step would be leaving dorm and trying to leave school grounds. It was easier said then done. Even movie stars couldn't change their look from movie to movie. Reese Witherspoon still looked the same from big screen to big screen. Cutting her hair was out of the question too-Miley Cyrus was still easy to spot with her ultra short hair cut. If anything she could try to dye her hair a darker colour. Yet, she doubted anyone would fall for it.

She would need to change her look drastically and try a… gothic look? Black hair, red lips and heavy makeup would do the trick. Claire looked at herself in the mirror. No. It wouldn't work; she wouldn't be able to pull it off. She was to tanned and "glowy".

Claire rummaged around the room. Gretchen use to make her dye her hair every couple of months. She found one of her boxes underneath some of her dirty clothes in the closet. While she had been looking for it she decided she would take a more bohemian look. With a hair bandana, earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces and a large shirt would be able to change her body shape slightly. Large glasses wouldn't hurt either.

Trying to blend in never worked for her, so maybe trying to stand out a little would do the trick. Reverse psychology? Everyone was probably expecting her to come out with a baseball cap, white shirt and jeans. They wouldn't expect a brown haired stylish cutie.

It was fairly easy getting to the bathroom to change her hair colour, yet she was sure that had to do with the numerous years being on the run and being her father's daughter.

Claire took a last look at herself in the mirror. She looked different. It would work for a while. When she opened the door and walked out in the hall, she smirked when nobody spared her a second glance.

With her map, change of clothes and necessities in a bag, Claire walked out Arlington University and headed for the bus stop. The hardest part was acting like everything was normal and inconspicuously checking over her shoulder constantly. She sat in front in the bus. This way she could see who came in and use the driver's mirrors to see everyone in the bus and the cars following the bus. At this point she was sure the only person that could find her was Sylar. She frowned at the thought.

He could find anyone.

Claire took another look at herself in the mirror. Be more like Sylar? Unconsciously she fingered her hair and fiddled with her rings. She hadn't thought of Sylar for a while. The last encounter she had with him hadn't been wanted but it didn't end as awful as most meetings. He'd forced a kiss on her, yes, but she did stab him. At the time it felt right to stab him, yet after it had happened and after he left, she felt guilty. It felt good hearing him cry out in pain, but what had scared her was that she knew he would heal and felt as if it was okay to do it. She couldn't accept that. If she thought that was acceptable, it was like acknowledging what Sylar did to her was okay. Everything about that day had bothered her. His behavior had been odd.

No.

He had been so _normal_ in his creepy way.

He had been like all of them. Lost and confused. She had felt empathetic towards him.

A slight shudder ran down her spin.

Having been on a philosophical journey she couldn't help but wonder; who was Sylar?

What made Sylar?

There were places she wasn't ready to go yet. That was one of them.

She was nearing her father's apartment. She would get off a block or two earlier. Get some fresh air and get some thoughts running through her brain.

Claire needed a plan and she couldn't count on her father this time. The man with the plan, she mocked in her mind.

What was his plan this time? What would her father do? What was he thinking? What would he make Peter and Hiro do? Where was he hiding?

She knew he wasn't at his apartment, but being there, she knew she would draw comfort from it. Maybe he'd have left some subtle clues only she could pick up on. Clues to give her a damn idea where everyone was. If there was nothing there for her, at least she could load up on some firearms, or something?

Claire took a step off the bus and as brave a face she was making, she felt small. Tiny. Taking a few steps away from the bus, she finally felt the full effect of how vulnerable she felt. She had no one to hid behind. She had no father to protect her.

How could she do this alone? How did people _do_ these sorts of things alone?

Walking along the sidewalk, Claire tried portraying confidence she knew she had somewhere inside her. As someone bumped into her, she smiled coyly to the boy her age. She felt that sense of being someone once again. Someone important. Real.

She once had her head sliced off and lived to tell the story. She was the only one who survived Sylar's hunt and she would forever be the only one who lived through his gruesome way of stealing abilities.

She had been alone that day with Sylar and she would have many more years to do things alone without her father, friends or family to fall back on. To be a little optimistic, even if she did this alone, at least she knew she couldn't die from it.

Her father's apartment building was in sight. There were a few people loitering around the building but she couldn't be sure who was possibly looking for her or looking for Specials. It sent her a little bit on edge.

It was difficult trying to sort through her emotions. Trying to go down to the core of her feelings. Trying to get down to the nucleus of her instincts. Identifying with the way her feelings made her body react and feel. If she could trust her intuition she would get use to knowing when she was in a bad spot.

Going up the stairs was uneventful. There had only been one person who crossed her in the hallway who hadn't even spared her a second glance. Even so, the hairs in the back of her neck rose up. It was hard trying to distinguish if it had just been nerves or from the stranger. Claire observed the scene. Noticed how one of the lights had been flickering, noticed that the guy's hat cast a shadow over half of his face, saw that he had angled his body away from her as he walked by.

As he brushed passed her, she knew that there was something wrong with the situation.

A cold sweat ran down her back.

There wasn't a lot that she could do. There was only the hope that her disguise did the trick. She'd hid in the emergency stairway for a while hoping that it would deter her from suspicious eyes. After thirty long minutes she stood in front of her fathers door and quickly unlocked and closed the door behind her.

Everything looked the same as she has last seen it. From habit she went to the refrigerator and took a peak inside. Nothing was moldy nor near expiration. Had someone been here recently? Only a week had passed yet, with the Carnival previous to the disappearance she couldn't tell how many days he had truly been away from home. If someone had asked her, she would have said that someone had eaten here recently.

The apartment was as tidy as it usually was. No papers out of place and nothing missing. What did this say about her father?

Walking around the apartment she glanced in the bathroom. There were small stubs of hair around the sink as if someone had shaved that morning. Noah's bedroom looked as if he had just woken up late and done his bed in a rush.

What did it mean?

He was up to something. Was this his way of showing he was still around and he had a plan (that excluded her, as always)? It sounded like something he would do. Yet, even though that was the case she didn't think he would abandon her completely.

He would make sure she was fine at the very least. He could have spied on her. Tracked her using her phone. See if she used her debit or credit card.

Her phone.

She took it out of her bag and quickly threw the back of her case on the ground and tore the battery out. Someone knew she was here. In that moment she tore through the apartment. There was information somewhere.

In one of his drawers she found some money. After a few more minutes she couldn't find anything else. She didn't want to waist anymore time here. Walking near the phone she noticed a small piece of paper with a phone number and the name Ash F. Zelnick. She shoved the paper in her pocket and went to the fire escape in her father's room.

Heat rose to her face. She felt so naïve. The first thing she should have gotten ride of was her phone. The disguise now felt useless. Someone knew how she looked. She gritted her teeth as she remembered the odd guy in the hallway. She took two steps at a time as she was descending the fire escape. The media wouldn't find her for a while but people who were looking for Specials would.

Adrenaline rushed through her body. Her heart thumped loudly in her throat and uneasiness settles in her bones. Shivers ran down her body and a cold sweat chilled her skin.

She was being hunted.

A large knot formed in her throat preventing her from catching her breath. This time it wasn't Sylar whom was hunting her and it terrified her. Sylar she could deal with, but this? It was too unknown.

As Claire took the last step she stumbled and fell to the ground. She scrapped her hands and her knee. Although she couldn't feel the pain, she knew she wouldn't have if she could have felt it. The skin knitted itself together and she wiped off the dirt and grim as best as she could.

It was impossible to shake off the feeling she was being followed. It took all her might not to run as fast as she could. Her biggest inconvenience was being trapped in an alley. If she could reach a busier part of the street she could vanish in the crowd of people.

Claire was sure she could hear the blood pumping and flowing through her body. There was only five feet separating her from the mass of people walking along the sidewalk from the alley. There were no steps behind her that she could hear, but people could hide and walk soundlessly. Actually, some people didn't need to walk to get to her.

As she reached the sidewalk and walked along with everyone else she let out the breath she was holding. In the mass of people, she couldn't be sure who was actually undercover but it still brought her a sense of relief. It would be harder to take her by force with so many witnesses. It also gave her a bit of time to try and figure out what she could do. She needed to sit down somewhere. She needed to blend in with others.

If she took a bus again, she would still be an easy target but she could at least monitor things around her better. Compulsively she jumped on a bus that was getting ready to leave. This time, she took a seat in the back. Everybody who would come on this bus from now could potentially be looking for her. Six people hopped on the bus behind her. None of which she recognized.

For the next ten minutes she observed everyone. It didn't seem like someone was about to pull a gun out and shoot her. Even though it was impossible to kill her, she wouldn't put it passed people. Discretely she pulled out the piece of paper her father had left her.

It seemed too easy to for him to have actually left a phone number she could reach someone. Taking a long deep breath she looked at the paper harder. It was his usual handwriting, noted he wrote the first letters of the man's first, middle and last name in cursive. It was unusual for him, but it seemed irrelevant. The name was not familiar, nor did the phone number seem familiar.

Perhaps it was his new identity? Maybe it was Lyles new name or Peter's? It drover her insane trying to piece together the jumble her father left her. If it even was for her.

She wanted to try the phone number but knew she would have to wait for that. Patience. She could do this is she was patient and she waited for the opportune moment. Claire needed to outsmart the people who were looking for her. At least she had a little experience in the domain.

She would priorities her options. First thing first, she needed to blend in and disappear.

"East Randol Mill Road"

Claire's head snapped up to the street display in the front of the bus. As casually as she could she looked out to her right.

The glare from Cowboys Stadium's front giant windows blinded her for a second. It seemed almost theatrical. A mass of people was going in to see the Dallas Cowboys. An insuppressible grin formed on her lips. How else to blend in then in a Stadium of blue and white? She pushed one of the buttons on the railing. As soon as the door opened she lunged outside and sprinted as fast as she could. She could hear footsteps following in behind her. The only comfort Claire had was that she was in public.

When she was in a small crowd of people she continued to rush forwards towards one of the booths. Once she would be in, she would be home free.

"Can I have a ticket in the upper 400? Anything is good for me." Claire inquired with a flirty smile to the boy in the booth.

He smiled toothily at her and typed something in the computer. The wait seemed to drag on longer than it should have.

"That will be 82. 83$"

As casually as she could she took out one of the 100$ bills she'd taken from her father.

"17.17$ is your change. Here you are."

As Claire took the ticket in her hand, she tried to act as calmly as she could. Her heart thumped in her ears. Before leaving, she gave him another flirty smile. Once she passed inside, she purchased a Dallas Cowboys t-shirt and baseball cap. Behind a pillar she took her bandana and shirt off and placed her glasses in her bag. Before putting the hat on she tied her hair in a bun. She stayed behind the pillar for a moment, waiting for a large group of people to pass and integrated herself with them.

"So, you know that chick that killed herself off the Ferris wheel and didn't die?" A chorus of agreements murmured in the crowed.

"What about that crazy bitch?" A boy asked obnoxiously.

"Well, I heard on the news today that Doctors think she holds the cure for cancer. I also heard from a pal I have down in Mexico saying the Cortels are interested in her. You know that rumour about her already being in the mafia? Worth shit. If anything, they are killing to have her."

"No fucking way. Your friend is a dumbass and he's just playing you."

"No man. He's the deal. He knows whatever goes down. He's a bartender at one of the bar. They want her."

"I heard that there maybe other real x-men walking around."

"I heard that too. You think Dez Bryant is a fucking mutant? Remember that one catch he made a while back?"

Claire turned away from them and stood by the railing with other Cowboys' fans. When things settled down, she'd take a seat and leave when the game was done. She was invisible here.

When the players came down on the field she couldn't help but smile. For the first time, she knew how it felt to be an adult-to know how to do things on her own and truly be independent. Nobody could take this away from her.

From time to time Claire would move from place to place, but she didn't feel entirely safe. There were no more talks about the girl who killed herself and lived. It was just American's and football.

Sitting down for a while, Claire took out the piece of paper again. It made her feel uneasy. Ash F. Zelnick, 202-274-9662. Only the '202' area code had a slight slant, it was almost undistinguishable. What was her father trying to tell her? Was there a hidden message in the name or in the phone number?

Perhaps it was the cursive letters that meant something? AFZ... Maybe it was the last letters…HFK? It made her want to swear. The numbers were perhaps a code for something? Perhaps they spelled something out for her to help her know what the name meant?

Calling would have to be her first choice. Yet, she was too paranoid to find a payphone in the stadium. There was always the chance that someone had checked her father's apartment before she did. They would know about the phone number and expect her to go right away. There maybe weren't a lot of men looking for her, or covering the payphone but her father had once been only one man and he had found people who where invisible.

Literally.

* * *

The light glimmered off a man's glasses. It had been another sunny day. The wind whistled in the distance and danced its way through the house. Noah wiped away the sweat that had formed on his forehead. The action almost seemed pointless, new beads of sweat only replaced the old ones.

It had been two weeks since he had parted with Peter. He rubbed his jaw with his thumb unconsciously. At the time, Peter had been borderline insane. Rambling about being with Sylar for years and that he needed Claire. In rage Peter had punched him when he'd raised his gun.

Once it happened, Sylar had put his hand on Peter's shoulder and softly called his name. From that day Peter had expressed how Sylar was changed. He'd even hear him call him Gabriel from time to time. If Sylar had changed, it didn't matter to him.

Noah would do what he did best.

"Señor Bennet."

Noah Bennet's thin lips formed a grin as he turned around and acknowledged the man in front of him.

* * *

"Sylar, I need to see Claire."

Both men were sitting in a café. Peter's hands were wrapped loosely against his coffee cup. It was an old fashion décor, with the radio playing in the background. Every thirty minutes there would be an update about Claire Bennet, the undying twenty years old. Unconsciously, her uncle held his breath every time it would come on.

"I know Peter." Sylar took a sip of his hot chocolate and eyed the customers in the café.

"She needs us. I can feel it in my bones. Something is going on." It had been three weeks since he had last seen her. The first week had been spent with Noah whom told them his plan and set it in motion. The last two weeks had been the hardest for Peter.

Linked now by an emotional understanding, Sylar reached out to Peter and put his hand on his arm. A ghost of a smile formed on Peter's face at seeing the glimpse of Claire's tattoo. Naturally, Peter put his hand over it and rubbed his thumb on Sylar's skin. They both needed Claire.

It had been too many years since the Petrelli spoke with his niece-the only Petrelli who resembled him the most in his family. The relationship he had with Claire had changed over the years and especially after Nathan's death. Yet, she was still the only one who he needed to share his soul about what had happened between Sylar and himself.

Hating Sylar for all these years after Nathan's death had done its toll on his body. When he forgave him, Peter had finally understood that he felt more at peace with Nathan's death. He didn't feel like he was going against Nathan's memory like he had thought he was. Peter actually felt like he found great comfort in Sylar. In a way, Sylar was like the twin brother he'd always wanted. He wasn't Nathan's replacement and there were no angst or angry feelings directed to Sylar. The way Sylar made him feel reminded Peter how good it had felt to have Nathan. How it felt to be a brother to someone. The reformed villain made Peter feel complete. When Peter finally understood what had happened to Sylar and what made Sylar into himself, he was able to empathize with him. He'd been able to see what made him tick and how to make him better.

"We need to wait for Noah. If there is anything I learned Peter, it's that Claire is strong. In the mean time, we need to figure out where that fake Ash F. Zelnick is."

"I know, Gabe."

"Where getting closer to her Peter. I feel it. Something is happening to her, but we'll get to her soon."

Peter rubbed his temple roughly. He had hated the plan the moment Noah had talked about it. The problem with Noah was that he didn't trust anyone with the truth. Noah didn't trust anyone with all the information. Whatever had happened to him in the past, he never let go. The older Bennet had scars and grudges he couldn't let go of.

The younger boy rubbed his eyes roughly. "You know, Claire told me when she had lost her powers during the eclipse, that she had died from a shot wound to save Noah." Sylar only listened intently nodding now and then. "They kept calling Noah and trying to get him to come see her, but he didn't. Noah let Claire die."

"That was because of me."

Peter shook his head. "No. Noah, he has a plan of his own. He always does and he'll stop at nothing to get it. Even if that means he can't be with Claire when she needs him." He let out a shaky breath. "I didn't want her to tell the world about the Specials, but she is the only one that can do it. Claire is the only innocent one of us. Gabe, I'm tired of waiting around. I'm tired of listening to the radio to hear something about Claire. I'm done, Gabe."

Sylar regarded him thoughtfully. Having known Peter and using his ability, he was able to come to a quick conclusion. A snarky smile appeared on his face.

"I can do that." Peter would have shuddered hearing Sylar's lazy speech, like when he was a serial killer, but he didn't, he only grinned in return.


End file.
